Resurrection
by Brin Londo5
Summary: What happens next. ch. 8 and FINISHED !!
1. Default Chapter

Title: Resurrection  
  
Author: Brin Londo5  
  
Email: ogreblood@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG or mild R, due to violence and language  
  
Summary: What happens next. Disclaimer: All Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series characters belong to Joss Wheadon, all hail the Joss-meister. No cash is being made, so there. Archive: Whoever wants it, just please ask first.  
  
Author's Notes: Ain't NO way I'm gonna let my favorite vampire go that easy!!!  
  
PART ONE.  
  
"I can feel it, Buffy." Spike said, through the pain burning through him, the amulet's power letting him withstand the fiery rays of the sun, even as the jewel's prism cast the light throughout the tunnel, burning away the First Evil's army of Uber-Vamps.  
  
"What?" Buffy asked in a shocked voice, as the new Slayers ran past her up the tunnel to the surface.  
  
"My soul. It's really there." The bleach-blonde vampire replied, just as shocked and awed sounding as she. "Kinda stings." He added, with a tiny smidgen of his old false bravado. "Go on then." He told Buffy, gazing at her. Gods, she looked so beautiful, even battle-scarred as she was right now.  
  
Buffy shook her head, she couldn't loose him, not now, not him too! "No, no, you've done enough, you can still"  
  
"GO, you've beaten them back, it's for me to do the clean-up." Spike said, every breath a gasp, trying not to scream through the pain of the sunlight cascading over him like a river of molten magma. Somewhere in the background, Faith screamed for Buffy to come on, over the din of the collapsing cavern. "Gotta move, lamb, as they say, school's out for bloody Summers." He smiled at his joke, even through the agony.  
  
"SPIKE!"  
  
"I mean it, I gotta do this!" he said, holding his hand out to ward her off. He knew if he didn't, she'd pull him out of the sunlight and try to save his worthless undead ass. And that could mean the end, if any of the Turak-Han still lived, after all this was over. He wouldn't look at her, he couldn't look into those teary eyes, if he did, he might just.  
  
Buffy reached out, grasping the hand he held out to keep her away, even as the sunlight began eating through the amulets protection. She gasped in pain, as his hand ignited in her grasp, but held on anyway. He looked at her, finally, in awe.  
  
"I love you." She whispered. There. She finally said it. Just as that strange girl they'd tried to rescue prophesized she would. But he knew, it was too late.  
  
"No, you don't," he replied with a cocky twitch of his scarred eyebrow, "but thanks for saying it." Just then, a section of roof collapsed dangerously near, and she jumped, breaking contact. "Now GO!" He almost- shouted, not finishing with the understood 'and don't look back'  
  
"I wanna see how it ends." He said with an almost triumphant grin, as her footsteps rang on the stone staircase, up to the Hellmouth's seal.  
  
He hoped she made it out. He could hear the school collapsing above him. He could feel his flesh charring from within, burning like one of his cigarettes. His jaw clenched, and he laughed against the pain, laughed because he beat them, beat the First, it's plans, and it's army. Buffy would be safe. Buffy, and Dawn. Hell, even the freakin Scoobies, and that blasted Watcher. He did this. Him. William the Bloody Awful Poet. Spike. All this destruction was his doing. Ah, if only Drusilla could see him now, and the lovely chaos he'd wrought. Not evil enough for her? Who cares. He'd had the Slayer. His laughter echoed amidst the cavern's collapse, even as his ashes settled amidst the debris, as the entire town of Sunnydale collapsed into the sinkhole that engulfed it.  
  
At the edge of the sinkhole, Giles could only marvel at Buffy's words, when he asked what caused the destruction of the town.  
  
"Spike." She'd replied, with a sad, wistful smile, just before the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign fell into the pit. Yeah, that was so Spike, always running it over with his Desoto, or something. One last defiant act. She wouldn't cry now. No, that'd be for later, when no one could see her. He'd been her enemy, her lover, and her strength. He deserved that much respect, at least. But what she wouldn't give to have him holding her right now, telling her to 'buck up, pet', or something of the sort. And, oh, God, did she miss him. 


	2. chapter 2

Bloody hell He winced as looked around. Well, looked was the wrong word. Sensed? Perceived? All around him was, for want of a better word- - -nice?  
  
Mum? he asked, or tried to. He could feel his mother here, and Joyce, as well, but something felt missing. What could it be? Ah, that was what it was, the demon. Spike. Where was Spike?  
  
Anya let him know that there was a reason Spike wasn't there. Anya? Hi, nice to see you, if that was the right concept. Guess you didn't make it either.  
  
Okay, so you did 'make it', in a sense. A bit odd for a former Vengeance Demon, but if William the Bloody Awful Poet could make it here, why not Anyanka?  
  
Oh, sorry, so it was really Aud? Odd name, that, but okay. No, I wasn't trying to make a pun, sorry. Nice here, though, isn't it? Too bad you had to go, though. I bet the whelp won't be too happy about that. Sorry, I meant Xander. Old habit, it was just too much fun teasing him over the last two years. I actually quit hating him quite a while ago.  
  
He only left you to protect you, you know. Oh, you DO know. Oh, yeah, the whole 'All the questions answered, all the wants fulfilled' bit. Ah, that's it, Spike's in the other place. That was the question I asked, wasn't it?  
  
He 'turned' to the other two..  
  
I've missed you two. I'm so sorry about turning you, mother, I only wanted to help you, cure you of that wretched tuberculosis. And you, Joyce, I'm sorry that there wasn't anything I could do to prevent the aneurysm. I missed you, and your hot chocolate, with the little marshmallows. I kept your grave clean, and didn't let any of the monsters in town from desecrating your grave. Bloody hell, your grave, I destroyed it, when I collapsed the town.  
  
Oh, all right then. If you're not mad about it, why should-what NOW, Anya?  
  
Back? What do you mean, back? I'm not being tossed out, am I?  
  
Oh, a reward? I thought THIS was my reward?  
  
And how come you're being so nice?  
  
Justice Angel? I thought you were a vengeance de-oh, sorry, EX-vengeance demon.  
  
Oh. Good pay, I guess, if you can get the job, eh? Hey, will I get my demon back? He helped, too. Good, besides, I'm right fond of him, he helped HER, and he actually aspired to redeem himself. Oddest bit you ever heard, eh? A demon aspiring to heroism and love, eh? Oh, sorry, you worked with him, before he reclaimed me. Forgot for a minute.  
  
He 'turned' and 'waved' at Joyce and his mother, then 'walked' to the horizon with Aud.  
  
"Bloody HELL!" He rasped. Everything hurt. Everything burned. And something just hit him in the ribs.  
  
Sitting up, he looked at the item that had gouged into his ribs. Heh. Heh- heh. 'Welcome to Sunnydale'. Bloody sign finally got it's revenge!  
  
He used the sign to pull himself upright, and began climbing up the sloping rim of the crater that was what was left of good ol' Sunnyhell. 


	3. chapter 3

A hammering on her hotel room door awakened Buffy Summers from a badly needed sleep. The last few days had been a strain on all of them, from the hospital stays for Wood and two of the Potentials.no, not Potential Slayers, Slayers in their own right. The memorial service for Anya and others lost in the disaster that was Sunnydale's last hours. And already, the press had started hounding the survivors for the movie and television rights to 'their story'.  
  
"Ghaah, what is it?" She asked, just as she opened the door. "Sleep for a week, remember?"  
  
Two small, strong hands grabbed Buffy's forearm and yanked her out into the hallway.  
  
"Buffy, you gotta come, you gotta see this!!!" Dawn Summers nearly shrieked at her older 'sister', "Xander's room, it's on T.V.!!!" 'Huh?', Buffy thought.  
  
"Xander's room is on the tube?" Buffy asked, confused as all get out, as Dawn tugged her into the doorway to her friends room.  
  
"NO! Just LOOK!" She yelled, pointing at the screen, where coverage of the National Guard and Red Cross efforts to rescue anyone still in the crater where Sunnydale once stood was going into it's third night.  
  
"Where rescue workers feared that no-one could have survived the collapse of the Californian town of Sunnydale into the massive sinkhole that swallowed nearly twelve square miles of homes and businesses, a miracle has occurred. One survivor, a young man suffering severe injuries, has been found by rescue workers early tonight." A hispanic news reporter proclaimed, amidst rescue efforts.  
  
Buffy's throat closed up, it couldn't possibly be, there's no way he could have survived three whole days of sunlight, he had already started to combust when she ran up the stairs.  
  
"The young man, apparently of British origin, possibly an exchange student at UC-Sunnydale or a musician at the former local nightclub, the Bronze, was found suffering from what doctors describe as severe burns, dehydration, and rubble induced injuries. Until his identity can be verified and family members contacted, his name is being withheld from the press. However, John, " She said, looking into the camera, presumably at the anchor in the studio, "We have received word he is being airlifted to the trauma unit at UCLA Medical. Back to you, John!" The television switched images back to the main studio, and Buffy's knees gave out. Xander grabbed her in time, and she fell down into a sitting position on the bed. Her eyes were wide, and almost glassy-looking.  
  
"Uh, Buffy? Buffster? Oh crap, she's gone catatonic, just like when Glory snatched Dawn. Dawnie, grab Willow from Kennedy's room and get her in here!" Xander said.  
  
"He's alive? Spike?" Buffy whispered.  
  
"Uh, cancel that, Dawn, she's still here, thank god."  
  
Dawn looked from Buffy to Xander, then back to the T.V. Giddy to frightened in three seconds flat, she thought to herself, judging her sister's reaction. A single tear ran down Buffy's face, then another. Then, a shudder ran through the elder Summers sister, and she grabbed Dawn and pulled her into a bruising-tight hug and began sobbing into Dawn's shoulder. Xander gaped at Buffy's reaction, then walked towards the door as the two began crying tears of obvious relief on each other.  
  
"He's alive, Dawnie, Spike's alive!"  
  
Xander quietly closed the door behind him, holding himself just this side of freaked. Not just about the possible identity of the person they pulled out of the crater, but at Buffy's reaction to it. I mean, c'mon, he knew Buffy was fond of the Evil Undead Peroxide Fiend, but this? That wasn't the reaction of someone who just found out a friend was alive when feared dead, that was.. how he imagined that Buffy would react if Angel, the supposed 'love of her life', was found after being presumed dead. He needed Willow and Giles in on this. Maybe they could figure out what was going on. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Buffy, you have to understand, we're all a bit worried about your reaction last night." Giles said, with a bit of vague, English apprehension. "We've all been under a great deal of stress, I admit, and an emotional catharsis on your part is something that, on a psychological level, should be relieving to us, but---Spike? Why get all weepy over HIM?"  
  
"Hey, cut B some slack, G-man." Faith interjected. "If she wants to cry over finding out her guy is still kickin', who're we to do anything but show a little support?"  
  
Buffy looked around the room. Giles, Dawn, Xander, Willow, Kennedy, and Faith all sat at various positions around the room, some with worried looks (Xander and Giles, Dawn for a different reason altogether), some supportive (Willow, Dawn, and Faith), and one confused (Kennedy).  
  
"Giles, Xander. . .this is something that it's taken me a long time to come to grips with, to admit, even to myself. No, ESPECIALLY to myself. For over three years now, Spike has been helping us fight off the big bads out there in the night. At first, for self-preservation, and occasionally for money, but more and more, because he began to realize it was a fight worth fighting. For just over two and a half years, there's been something growing between myself and Spike. He helped us against Glory, when the smart thing for him to do would be for him to just hop into his car and get the hell out of Sunnydale. He already knew how to get by without hunting for prey by now. Instead, he stayed. He stayed and fought. When Glory's minions captured him, he refused to tell her anything, not one damned word about Dawn or the Key, even under some of the most extreme torture." She paused for a moment, to get her feelings under control, and gave a silent thanks to Willow, who was giving Xander her best 'Don't you DARE say the old spike's perverted obsession spiel '.  
  
"I kept telling myself that because he hadn't a soul, he couldn't feel, he couldn't love, despite his claims to the contrary. But even back then, I knew better. Y'know, Dawnie, one time after mom died, I went on a late patrol, and found him there, at her grave. Crying. He loved her, Dawn, almost as much as we did. He was leaning up against her headstone, quietly babbling away to her, about missing her, and the hot chocolate she'd always make him when he'd come over. Which I never knew about, until then, by the way. He promised her he'd take care of us, and keep Glory away from Dawn, even if it meant dying again and going back to Hell. It took every bit of skill I had to sneak away so that he wouldn't know I was there. Ever wonder why none of the demons or vampires ever messed with mom's grave? They all knew by then that that was the Slayers mother. Spike. He'd always do an extra swing around her grave when he was on patrol, after the rest of us went home."  
  
"And, guys, " Dawn interjected, "He always stopped by the house, to make sure I was all right, after, well, after Buffy died. When I needed to talk to someone, and I couldn't talk to willow, or Xander, or Tara, Spike was always there. He really cared about how I was getting along, how I felt. And I was the only one he'd let down his guard to, the only one he could let himself mourn Buffy with."  
  
"Well, not entirely. There was one night out at the Bronze when I found Captain Peroxide there, getting completely plastered. We all got smashed, and blubbering like children over missing Buffy, then Anya and I walked him home to his crypt." Xander bowed his head for a moment, trying not to break down over losing the ex-demon again, and Willow gave his arm a tight squeeze.  
  
"When I came back," Buffy continued, "He was the only one who didn't make me feel like I was being pushed into being the same old Buffy again. Okay, so none of you knew I was really in Heaven, I got over THAT a while ago, but it was there, none the less. And when I started USING him, and abusing him, he never objected, never pushed me away like I probably deserved to be. God, there were times I all but raped him, no, it was rape, and he stayed by my side anyway. It's no wonder he finally snapped that night and tried to return the favor. But after all the abuse, after all the pain I put him through, he still wanted to try to be worthy of my love."  
  
"So, he left. He got his soul back. For me. Even when he knew what Angel went through when he was cursed with a soul, Spike willingly put himself through that torment, for me. When he found out about the First's little mental trigger, he asked me to kill him, to stake him then and there, so that he couldn't hurt me or Dawn. Tried to do it himself, once, but I stopped him. I told him it was because I needed him to watch my back, but it was really because I wanted him at my side."  
  
"It wasn't until that night inside the portal to the Hellmouth, when I knew that I was going to lose him, that I finally let myself realize just what it was that I felt for him, what I've been denying for the last few years." She looked at the others, defiance, mourning, and hope flickering across her face in turns.  
  
"I love him." Dawn pulled her sister into a hug once more, as Xander and Giles looked on, slightly shocked, then in resigned acceptance.  
  
"Buffy," Giles began, pinching the bridge of his nose and cleaning his glasses, "We don't even know if this person they found IS Spike. After all, we don't know if we were indeed the only people in Sunnydale at the time."  
  
Dawn all but glared over Buffy's shoulder at the ex-watcher. "Who ELSE could it be, Giles? You know of any other Englishmen in their mid-twenties in Sunnydale that week?"  
  
"That's precisely my point, we DON'T know if anyone else was there, English or not. And I think that the rescue crews would have been a bit less enthusiastic about finding someone without a pulse, in Sunnydale's wreckage."  
  
"Uh, the G-man has a point, Buff."  
  
"Hey, not a problem, I'll go check with Angel's crew, see if they can get any info on who our mystery survivor is. After all, If I can't go visit MY guy while he's in the hospital, being a wanted fugitive and all, the least I can do is check out if B's guy is there for her to see."  
  
"Thanks, Faith, you have no idea how much that means to me."  
  
"Hey, I could see the looks you two were giving each other all week long, when you thought no-one else was watching. Like I said, the least I can do." 


	5. chapter 5

Faith, Willow, and Buffy walked into the shattered lobby of the hotel Angel owned, looking in shock at the damage to the once elegant interior. Workmen wandered here and there, cleaning up debris and doing repairs.  
  
"Goddess, Spike sure holds a grudge, doesn't he?" Willow tried to joke.  
  
"Willow! Faith! Great to see you!" a voice shouted out. Buffy pulled a stake from her back pocket, seeing a green skinned, red-eyed demon with a pair of short horns protruding from his forehead. "Ah, and THIS must be Buffy, the famous Slayer of the former town of Sunnydale, am I right? Wow, you look gorgeous, babe, and don't let anyone else tell you different! Thought you'd be taller, though."  
  
"Hey, Lorne, how's it hangin', yo?" Fait stepped forward and high-fived the demon of Caritas. "What's with the mess, dude, we miss something when Angel popped up in Sunny-D?"  
  
"Ah, that's quite a story, there. While folks were high-tailing it out of Sunnydale a few weeks back, we here in L.A. were having our own little apocalypse, courtesy of a rogue Power-That-Was calling herself Jasmine." A brief look of sorrow slipped over the demon's features, then his usual cheerful mien slipped back into place. "Not to worry, though, Angel managed to pull the planet's fat out of the proverbial fire yet again, so we're just cleaning up the aftermath, right now."  
  
"Wait a minute, how come we never heard of this?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Were any of us watching the tube, B?" Faith bounced back.  
  
"Er, no, we were all too busy trying to figure out how to stop the First." The blond Slayer replied, slightly embarrassed at how she and every one else had lost track of the outside world.  
  
"Pardon a confused Host demon, but the First what?"  
  
"The First Evil, Lorne-baby. The Buffster here thought up a plan that sank its plans, and Willow here managed to activate every potential Slayer into full bloom! We squashed the First like a bad zit, amigo!"  
  
"The First Evil? Great merciful Zeus!"  
  
"Have you been hanging out with Xander?" Willow asked.  
  
"And you created an army of Slayers? That's fantastic!" Buffy looked at Lorne with confusion blatantly obvious on her face. A demon, cheering over the idea of hundreds, if not thousands of Slayers, all at once? "Well, what can I do for you ladies?"  
  
"Look, handsome, we need Angel Investigations to find out the identity of that guy they pulled out of the ruins of Sunnydale last night. We think he might be one of our crew, maybe a vampire."  
  
"No sweat, Faith, we'll just get some of our people at Wolfram and Hart to look into it for us!"  
  
"WOLFRAM AND HART?????" A trio of voices rang out in the lobby.  
  
_*_*_*_*_*  
  
Back at the Scoobies hotel...  
  
"Buffy loves SPIKE? Where have I heard THAT before?" Xander shook his head.  
  
Kennedy shrugged, looking at the grim faces of the one-eyed construction worker and the ex-Watcher. She held out a bowl of popcorn to Vi, then offered some to Dawn, who ignored it.  
  
"Whoa, Xan, this is NOTHING like Willow's 'My Will Be Done' spell. This has been a long time coming, and I for one am glad to see she's finally pulled her head out of her crack and realized it."  
  
"What???" Kennedy asked, half curios, half outraged at the slight to Willow she sensed in the comment.  
  
"A few years ago, Willow cast a spell to do her will, in an effort to rid herself of her feelings towards Oz, her boyfriend. A spell, which I might add, rendered myself sightless, Xander a homing beacon for demonic entities, and made Spike propose marriage to Buffy, which she accepted." Giles explained with a pained air, not wanting to remember the saccharine sickly sweet cooing and kissing that the two had indulged in, not three feet away from his distressed ears.  
  
"Buffy was engaged to the hottie vampire?" Vi asked. "And she called it OFF?"  
  
"Willow had a BOY-friend???" Kennedy nearly screamed.  
  
"Chill out, 'my-girlfriend-has-a-tongue-ring', Willow didn't always walk on the Femme side of the force. She had a thing for Xander for years, and dated this guitarist who was also a werewolf, for a while." Dawn also explained. "And I don't think we can blame all of that on Willow, guys!" she said, giving Xander and Giles pointedly direct looks.  
  
"Remember, the spell made them get married, it didn't say they had to be in love. I think Spike and Buffy did THAT all by themselves. And the compulsion ended when she broke the spell. So no, this isn't like one of Giles' acid flashbacks from his 'Ripper' days."  
  
"I hate to say it, but she's. . .she's right." Giles ground out. "I highly doubt that this is some sort of mystical echo, or something. And while Buffy has had a relationship with a vampire before, I can't honestly say that this is just a re-orientation or transference of her lingering feelings for Angel. If anything, it's unlikely simply because Spike is quite possibly the most extreme antithesis of Angel possible."  
  
"That, and he's nothing like tall, dark, and broody." Xander added.  
  
"Yes, Xander, once again, that is what I believe I just got done stating. On top of that assessment, (and I can't believe I'm actually SAYING this,) I believe that Spike was far too honorable to take advantage of Buffy, if that were the case."  
  
"I can't believe you just said it either, G-man. Spike? Honorable?" Xander stood aghast.  
  
"Xander, how many times did he patrol with you guys when Buffy was dead?" Dawn asked, pointedly flicking a piece of popcorn at him as she did.  
  
"More than I ever believed he would. Okay, and he saved me from being completely blinded by that freak, Caleb. I admit, the Evil Undead has been fighting on the side of the angels, lately, but, c'mon, Spike? Honorable?"  
  
"Xander, he kept his promise to Buffy to keep me safe. He kept his promise to take care of me while Buffy was dead. AND, he kept his promise to fight at Buffy's side when we fought the First. In fact, when he makes a promise, he keeps it, always." She replied, her hands on her hips, giving him a look that was a cross between a Buffy-glare and Willow's infamous 'resolve face'.  
  
"Yeah, even the ones you don't want him to keep." Xander admitted, with a chuckle.  
  
"Are you kidding? ESPECIALLY the ones you don't want him to keep." Dawn laughed.  
  
"All right, I admit, he's done a lot for us. A LOT. And most of the time, we never even thanked him for it. A lot of the time, we went out of our way to snub him for it. I went out of my way to snub him for it. Man, I can be a jerk, sometimes." Xander admitted, shaking his head. Dawn patted the one- eyed construction worker on the head.  
  
Just then, the door busted open to reveal a grinning trio of Faith, Buffy, and Willow.  
  
"Guys, you'll never guess who Angel found out is our Sunnydale mystery survivor! A certain Randy William Giles!"  
  
Authors Note: C'mon, Randy Giles? I just couldn't resist. And a big hello to all of the folks who have been reviewing this and sending me requests for more. Thanks, one and all! 


	6. chapter 6

Authors Notes: Okay, hang on, we're getting to the Spuffiness ( Song and lyrics by Aqua, which even I admit is a weird album for a metal-head like me to own. Anyone living in L.A., bear with me, as I've never been inside UCLA Medical, and have no idea how the inside layout is. ...  
  
Buffy sat in the limo that Lorne had provided them with, her head leaning against the coolness of the window, trying not to listen to the strained silence of the two people who shared the car with her.  
  
Dawn sat tensely across from her sister, torn between an excited bouncing up and down in the limo's seat, and huddling worriedly about Spike. Well, Spike and Buffy, both. Giles sat next to Dawn, still concerned for his surrogate daughter, worried about what her state would be if this ended unhappily. Just the thought of his slayer being in tears over a, well, a vampire. . .again, made him want to chuck it al, slide back into the familiar guise of Ripper, and HIT something, until it bled.  
  
"If only I could turn back time, If only I had said what I still hide. If only I could turn back time, I would stay for the night..." The Slayer quietly sang, so quietly, even she was barely able to hear it.  
  
"If only I had saved what I still had, Buff" Dawn corrected.  
  
"HUH?"  
  
"I looked the lyrics up for Music Appreciation, last semester. It's 'If only I had saved what I still had', not 'If only I had said what I still hide'. Common mistake, with her accent , and all. Either that, or it was one heck of a Freudian slip, eh?" Dawn looked embarrassed at catching Buffy at an awkward, private moment, and shrugged. "Sorry."  
  
"No. Freudian slip was right. It wasn't until I thought it was the end, that I could tell him. Figures, I denied it so long, he didn't believe me when I finally said it out loud." Buffy peered at Dawn. "When did you get so smart, brat? You been reading my old college Psyche 101 textbooks again?"  
  
"Someone had to. After all, I had to try and make SOME sense of why you kept fighting the way you felt about Spike for SO long, until even Anya could see it. Mom knew years ago." Dawn ignored the odd look that Giles suddenly directed at her. "She used to sneak him into the house when you were out patrolling, and we'd sit in the kitchen and drink hot chocolate, or eat up the leftover lasagna, or something, and talk. They'd talk about that weird soap-opera they liked so much, until I'd get bored and go somewhere else in the house, and then they'd talk about stuff."  
  
"Stuff?"  
  
"Yeah, like he'd ask about the gallery, or she'd ask about how the crypt was doing, y'know, if it was too drafty or something, and did he need that old comforter she had in the closet, or stuff. And he'd talk about you, describe to mom what it was like to watch you fight, y'know, the slaying and stuff. 'Poetry in motion,' he said once, 'like watching a torrential river, sweepin away all the rubbish, just flowin past the swords and claws and fangs, and ripping the baddies away from harmin the folks Buffy cares about'."  
  
"He, he said that?"  
  
"Yeah, then he got all embarrassed, and said something about earning his original nickname by being a 'bloody awful poet'. Then him and mom both gave me hell over eavesdropping, because he could smell the chocolate-chip cookies I'd grabbed before I left the kitchen." Buffy wondered how hearing something like that could make her fell both warm and fuzzy inside, and yet make her feel worse, because she was too blind to open her eyes and see him, back then.  
  
_*_*_*_*_*  
  
After the limo had pulled out, they entered the lobby and went straight to the elevators. Coming out on the Trauma Unit Ward floor, they went to the nurses station, double-checking on which room was that of 'Randy Giles'. Informed that only family members would be allowed in to see him, they fell back into the story that they'd decided upon, based off of their experience with Willows ill-conceived 'Tabula Rasa' spell. He introduced himself as Rupert Giles, Randy's father, and Buffy claimed that she was his fiancée, which was true, once upon a time.  
  
'Randy's doctor introduced himself in turn, and assured them that the younger 'Giles' was recovering far better than expected, in fact , he was healing at an almost miraculous rate.  
  
Buffy approached the bed with a sense of trepidation. There, on stark white sheets, lay Spike, I.V. and other tubes running into his arms and other places, gauze bandages covering his left cheek, one leg, portions of both arms, and she watched one nurse change the dressing on his chest, where a horrific burn spread in a starburst pattern from where the amulet must have been, across his right pectoral muscle. But despite all that, two things stood out the most.  
  
It was Spike. Seemingly alive, or at least not a pile of ashes.  
  
And he was laying quite peacefully in a beam of sunlight from the un-shaded window. 


	7. chapter 7

Buffy moved forward on unsteady legs, the forward momentum being the only thing keeping her knees from folding out from under her completely. The burns were ghastly, and the hair was SO wrong (Light brown and curls?), but there was no mistaking who that was lying on the bed. She moved to the side of the bed opposite the nurse, and gently brushed a trembling hand across his forehead, as if she were afraid he'd vanish like a popped soap bubble if she touched more firmly.  
  
"Spike?" she whispered, as the nurse finished and moved on with her duties.  
  
"Nnnn, stop that, bloody tickles, it does."  
  
Spike opened his eyes, still not used to seeing things in daytime (bloody well adjusted better when I had the gem of Amarra), and didn't quite believe it when his eyesight cleared. He was dreaming. He had to be; there was no other explanation why the Slayer's face could possibly be hovering over him, eyes crystal-bright with what looked to be unshed tears. (What are these bloody meds they're pumping into me? Whatever they are, wonder if I can snag some on the black market when I get the soddin' heck out of here. The hallucinations are pretty nice, I must say.)  
  
Two pairs of eyes widened when both parties realized the other was awake, aware, and really and truly there. Buffy grabbed one hand, then the other, peering with intensity down at them, then she looked out the window at the daylight streaming into the room, then two fingers went to the side of Spike's neck, feeling for the artery there.  
  
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.  
  
"You're ALIVE!" Buffy screamed as she dove down and wrapped herself around the confused Brit.  
  
"Buffy.air.breathing.can't!" Spike twitched in the Slayer's grip, trying to wave arms around in desperation, but only making jerking movements as they painfully pulled at burns.  
  
"Ah, Buffy, please, you might consider not strangling my son here, seeing as you spent so much time worrying about him." Giles gently reminded her, both of the need to ease off with her slayer-strength and of the pretense they used to gain access to see Spike. The last of the Watchers only had to look at his surrogate daughter's face to confirm his, well, not fears, per se, but reservations concerning her feelings towards the suddenly very much alive William the Bloody. Tears were openly running down the slayer's face as she held onto Spike as if he might fade away.  
  
"Oh, god, I thought I'd lost you forever, Spike, never, NEVER do anything like that again! I LOVE you, don't you get that? I lost you twice already, I can't go through that AGAIN!" Buffy sobbed into the injured punker's shoulder.  
  
"You died on me, guess I just had to return the favor." Buffy just clenched him harder at that. Oops. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, in the flesh, but what's with all the waterworks? These can't be for the Big Bad?" He tried again.  
  
"You.you JERK!" She said suddenly, sitting ramrod-straight and smacking him on the back of the head.  
  
"OW!"  
  
"I know I'm stuck-up, and a bitch, but you are the most ANNOYING boyfriend I've EVER HAD! Didn't you hear me? I said I LOVE you! In front of Giles, and everything! And no Willow spells miss-firing in the background to blame it on, either!"  
  
"You can't be serious, pet." He said, one eyebrow arching up in wary confusion.  
  
"I told you." Buffy looked on the verge of falling into a crying jag again. "Back in the cavern, I told you. I love you. And no, not because of the soul (though that gave you huge bonus points, mister), but because even before, you were always there. You cared, and you were there, no matter what." A pausing breath, then, "No matter what I did. I'm SO sorry, Spike. Sorry that I couldn't say it, that I couldn't let myself admit it, before that."  
  
"Toldja so!" Dawn yelled out from the doorway.  
  
(Nibblet's here, too?) Spike wondered. (And why isn't Rupert going all Ripper on me and trying to bash in my skull with a bedpan?)  
  
"You love me." Disbelief evident in his voice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You LOVE me? Love-love, not big-brother type love, like with Xander?"  
  
"Ye-ess, Spike, I finally quit being Queen of Denial; I love you."  
  
"Well. 'Bout time, Pet." Spike said, giving his best 'smug bastard' look.  
  
That earned him another whack to the head.  
  
"Hey! Enough with the sodding violence, I NEED that head!" He glared at Buffy until he noticed both her and the Watcher were giving him the most aghast looks. "What?"  
  
"Spike, you're all 'game-face'. " Buffy replied, rather pale and shocky looking. She reached down and felt his neck again, but his pulse was still going all thump-a-bump-y.  
  
"Oh." A pause, then he shook off the yellow eyes and lumpy angles. "Didn't know if I could still do that, being all living and soul-ish, and all. Anya said my demon had earned redemption just as much as William did, though. Oh, by the way, Buff, your mum said hi, along with Glinda, I mean Tara, and someone named Jenny said to tell you hello, too, Rupert."  
  
"A-Anya? And mom?"  
  
"Jenny?" Giles whispered, to himself. Spike realized he'd just stuck his foot into it, as the watcher turned away, bringing his hand to his face.  
  
"Bugger, knew I should've waited till later for that."  
  
Giles dabbed at his eyes under the pretense of cleaning his glasses, then turned back to the two figures on the bed.  
  
"Well, Spike, you wouldn't happen to have any idea exactly how or why you've returned to the living, albeit with vampiric demon intact, would you?"  
  
"All demon-girl said was the Powers that be could give me a choice of rewards, either Heaven right then, or return to life as a champion (with the option of Heaven afterwards, depending on if I bugger it all up as usual), because of some prophesy about Moo-shu Pork, or something like that."  
  
Giles perked up at that, intrigued by mystic prophecies and the potential disasters they usually foretold.  
  
"That wouldn't happen to be the Sanshu Prophesy, would it?"  
  
"Sanshu, Mushu, something of the soddin' sort. No idea, me self, but at least they didn't just plunk me down onto the firmament once again without my vampiric strength and healing capabilities. Good thing too, that damned sign was bloody sharp!"  
  
Buffy quirked an eye. "Sign? Not the Welcome."  
  
"To bloody Sunny-hell, , that's the one, pet. How'd you know?"  
  
"Lucky guess!" Buffy chuckled.  
  
"So," Spike said, "You love me, eh?"  
  
"Really, kinda, yeah."  
  
"Any chance that the cookie dough is done baking yet?"  
  
"You know, Spike, that's the great thing about chocolate-chip cookie- dough." Buffy said with a smile. "It tastes just as good even if you don't put it in the oven." She leaned down and captured the ex-vampire's lips with her own.  
  
"Hey, guys, Giles is still in the room!" Dawn yelled from the doorway again. "And he's turning a weird kinda purple." 


	8. chapter 8

Author's notes: Okay, we finally get to a few of the reasons why I decided to put this story in the R column of FF.Net. Fun, eh?  
  
"Mr. Giles, I highly protest this." Dr Patel all but fumed at Spike. "While you seem to be recovering at an, well, an impossible rate, you should remain in hospitalized care until we're convinced that you are well enough to be checked out."  
  
"Heh. Mate, I appreciate the concern, but as you can see, I'm doing fine. Perfect health, burns all fading, and I'm right as rain." Spike said, slipping on the black button-up shirt Buffy and Dawn had brought him earlier that week. Not his old t-shirt and red silk shirt, but those went up in flames underneath Sunnydale, along with his duster.  
  
"No you're not, you still display signs of anemia, and you're sadly depleted of melanin."  
  
"Haven't been in the sun for a while, Doc, that's all, and as for the other," he said, shifting into 'game-face', "Well, that's easily taken care of." He laughed at the ashen-faced look on the doctor's face, then slipped back into normalcy.  
  
"Was that totally necessary, Spike?" Buffy asked the ex-vampire, as they walked out the front doors of the hospital.  
  
"Not in the least, but is sure as bloody hell was fun, though! Got sick and tired of that chap and his white-suited dominatrix wanna-be's poking an' proddin' at me. Let's blow this ruddy pop-stand."  
  
Spike stopped in place, a vague sense of confusion blatant on his face as he watched Buffy walk directly to a long white stretch-limo. She turned around, realizing that he wasn't next to her anymore.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Uh, pet, I thought we were taking the S.H.S. bus. Where'd you lot get the cash for this little ride?"  
  
"Well, Robin has the keys, and he's still cooped up in there. No Slayer or Vamp healing, remember?" Spike cocked the scarred eyebrow at Buffy's flip answer. "I called in some markers, okay?"  
  
"Oh, SODDING HELL! Not ANGEL? Bollocks!"  
  
"Spike, relax. Do you honestly think that Angel of all people would loan me a limo, just to pick you up?" Then, she quirked an eyebrow right back at the former blond. "Especially with what I plan on doing to you in the back seat?"  
  
The grin on Spike's face answered her question.  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
As the Limo pulled away, Buffy pulled Spike to her. "And by the way, Spike, in case you hadn't gotten the picture yet," she said, capturing his lips with hers, "I"  
  
(One short, chaste kiss) "Love,"  
  
(longer, not so innocent) "You." She opened her mouth, letting his tongue inside, dueling with her own. She moaned softly into his mouth, then yelped as her tongue grazed a very sharp fang.  
  
"Sorry, pet. I-" He muttered, turning away, shame-faced. Buffy captured his face with her hand, turning him back to face her.  
  
"Spike, look at me." She looked into his blue eyes, when he finally met her gaze. "Show me."  
  
"Buffy, I,"  
  
"Show. Me."  
  
He slid his game-face into place. She gazed directly into his golden-yellow eyes, tracing the panther-like bone ridges of his demon's face.  
  
"I love you, Spike. All of you, the man and the demon." She leaned in, and kissed him, game-face and all. "Now show me, Spike. Show me how you feel."  
  
Suddenly, his mouth met hers, his left hand wrapping herself in her hair as their tongues met again. For the first time, Buffy realized why some folks referred to this as 'tonsil-hockey'. She whimpered into his mouth as his hand slid inside the cup of her bra, his thumb circling the stiff peak inside. She reached down, tugging his shirt over his head, losing his lips just long enough to pull both of their tops off. Spike's game-face slid away, as he gazed in awed hunger at the globes of her breasts, incased in shimmering green sheer lycra.  
  
Buffy gave a small, tentatively nervous smile, as she undid the front clasp, then pulled him towards her. Spike kissed her again, softly this time.  
  
"Let me make love to you, Buffy. We've fucked, we've shagged, we've screwed, but we've never made love. Let me make love to you. Let me love you, Buffy."  
  
"Always."  
  
Clothes slid away, and hands slid across skin. Buffy gasped as Spike's fingers slid deeply into her moist core, his thumb circling the throbbing nub at the top of the slit. Before she knew it, their clothes almost seemed to slide away. She found herself linking her fingers together behind his neck as her legs wrapped of their own volition around his hips. Damp fingers smelling faintly of her stroked her cheek, and she whimpered into his mouth as he slowly filled her. Slowly, they rocked together, softly picking up speed, until they thrashed together like old times, slipping into the familiar rhythms, familiar sensations of each other's bodies. Hands slid over skin, bodies rocked together, closer, closer, until Buffy screamed , spasming around Spike, driving him over the brink as well. His roar slammed through the car like a physical thing, as he stiffened atop her trembling form.  
  
The limo lurched slightly, and Buffy looked over Spike's shoulder, then broke out into giggles.  
  
"What?" Spike asked, looking directly into her eyes. She pointed at where her foot now rested, straight through the smoked Plexiglas of the divider.  
  
"Oops."  
  
"Well, Buff, at least we didn't demolish the car like we did the house, last year."  
  
"Or all of Sunnydale, last week. When you do something mister, you never go halfway, do you?"  
  
"Nahh, what's the point of that, pet? Anything worth doing is worth overdoing, especially if it's sex or violence."  
  
"Uh, you folks okay, back there?" The driver asked over the limo's intercom. Buffy reached past Spike and hit the intercom button.  
  
"Uh, we're fine. are we at our first stop yet?"  
  
"Yes, Ms. Summers, we're here, I've been circling the block as per your instructions." A brief pause, then "Um, you ARE done back there, right?" Buffy burst out into laughter.  
  
"Yeah, we're great. Give us a few, though. Oh, and sorry about the window."  
  
"No problems, Ms. Summers, the boss said something like this might happen. It's covered, we can fix it later." The drivers voice came back. "tell me when, and I can let you out then."  
  
"Uh, give us a sec, mate. I, for one would appreciate it." Spike said, laughing. "All right, Buffy. I'll bite. What's with this 'first stop' business?"  
  
She brushed her fingers through his light brown locks and laughed. "Well, Spike, Dawn and I are kinda used to the brown hair, and all, but the others might not be. So, I decided on giving you some sort of, well, anti-make- over."  
  
"After all that time you used to give me hell over my punk-rock fashion tastes, you're putting up good money to restore that self-same look you always claimed you hate? Love, I'm touched!" he said, as he pulled his clothes back on.  
  
An hour later, Spike walked out of the salon, his hair bleached back to it's classic platinum blond shade, spiked up in all his original punk rock glory, black polish adorning his fingernails, and his old swaggering Billy Idol-ish sneer back in it's rightful place on his face.  
  
"Er, Spike is that mascara? And, and, eyeliner?" She asked, peering carefully at the vampire, or former vampire's face.  
  
"Hey, don't knock it, pet. I killed my second slayer wearing mascara and eyeliner. It was the punk era. B'sides, " he said, "it brings out my eyes."  
  
Buffy burst out laughing at that.  
  
"WHAT?!?"  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
"Wait a minute, ain't this Wolfram and Hart? Tall, dark, and broody's anti- playmates? Evil lawyers, helping the forces of darkness screw with puppies and Christmas?"  
  
"Well, Spike," Buffy said, "There's been a few changes. Come on."  
  
Spike walked to a pair of double-doors that Buffy waved him towards. Ignoring the vague sense of apprehension that gripped him (Get a grip, Spike, you're the Big Bad!), he threw open the doors.  
  
"SURPRISE! WELCOME HOME, SPIKE!"  
  
Spike looked in surprise and shock at the scene before him. A banner reading 'Welcome back to the Living' stretched across what appeared to be a combination nightclub lounge and stage. Dawn, Xander, Faith, Giles, the new Slayers, Willow, Angel, and some people he's never seen before all stood there, applauding him. HIM, SPIKE! And, except for Angel, everyone looked truly enthusiastic to see him. Dawn rushed forward and hugged him, then suddenly, Xander and Willow were there too, wrapping him in a crushing bear hug.  
  
"Welcome back to the living, dead-boy Jr." Xander joked, as he and Willow stepped back.  
  
"Let's here it for our guest of honor, Who gave his life for others and got a second chance! William Cotswold, also known as William the Bloody, A.K.A. Spike! I'm Lorne, your Host for the evening, and we're all here to give a big welcome back to the man who is not only the Slayer of Slayers, the Scourge of Europe, and the Destroyer of Sunnydale, but is also the man who was key in the destruction of the First Evil!"  
  
Lorne grinned, rubbed his hands together, and continued, "Well, we have live entertainment for the guests, well wishes from all, presents from your friends, and later tonight, we'll have karaoke, which, as we all know, is Japanese for 'tone deaf'!"  
  
Later, as presents were unwrapped (and after Buffy unwrapped her doting little sister from her boyfriend), Spike stood in awe at the gifts. Dawn and Giles went to a motorcycle accessory shop and found a pair of vicious looking motocross boots in Spike's size, and Buffy, Xander, Willow, and Faith had pooled their money together and bought a black leather duster to replace the one that had been incinerated with Spike. Vi and Kennedy chipped in a pair of fingerless leather gloves and spiked wristbands, completing the punk ensemble.  
  
Spike looked over to a side-room, where Angel stood, looking out at the sunset.  
  
"So, when did the big, bad Angelus develop a pulse?" he quietly asked, taking a puff from his cigarette and a sip from the single-malt whisky Giles had slipped into his hand earlier. "Sunlight no longer a problem for you, too, either?"  
  
"Necro-technic glass, keeps the light from torching vampires. Even the ones with souls. Except you're not a vampire with a soul, you're a mortal with a demon now, aren't you?" Angel all but grated out, taking a sip from his rum and coke.  
  
"And you're missing Connor, aren't you?" Spike asked, a sideways look at his grand-sire.  
  
Angel choked on his drink, glaring at the peroxide-blond. "How the HELL do you know about that?"  
  
"Died, remember? The spell your new employees cast to make everyone forget you had a son was broken upon me turning into a tidy pile of ashes." He slumped against the wall, all traces of his gutter-cockney accent gone, his original upper-class tones coming to the fore. "Look, we'll probably never be friends ever again, Angelus, there's too much water under the bridge for us to ever be family again, what with you getting your soul and leaving Dru and me, not to mention Buffy's rather poor attempt to break things off gently in the cemetery last week, but I'd at least like a truce. I never wanted to hurt you, Angel; kill, maim, and injure you, maybe. But not like this. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that you're hurting this way. I never expected to come back, when I wore that damned necklace. I just wanted to keep Buffy safe."  
  
"Spike, I appreciate that. But just remember this. If you EVER hurt Buffy in ANY way, if you ever give her any cause to regret the choice she made, I WILL kill you." Angel said, game-face on, looking his grand-childe in the eyes.  
  
"Mate, If I ever do that, I WANT you to kill me. Buffy means the world to me. She's the bright counterpoint to Drusilla's darkness. If I ever give her a reason to doubt my feelings for her, I plan on getting myself re- sired, just so I can take a walk out in the sunlight and end it all." Spike said.  
  
The two turned and walked back into the party, just as Lorne geared the karaoke machine up, the strains of Billy Idol's song Rebel Yell starting up.  
  
THE END.  
  
AUTHORS NOTES 2: Okay, this is the final chapter for now, but there WILL be a sequel, I promise! Thank you to all those who've been reviewing this story, you've given me a totally Sally Fields moment "They like me, they really LIKE ME!". But, first, I plan on writing a response to a challenge a friend of mine gave me, and writing a Buffy/American Pie crossover. Have fun, one and all! 


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